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She ignored the tenderness in her breasts, the dragging feelings of fatigue she felt every night. It’s just all the sailing, all the physical work, she told herself. Just like she told herself that her appetite, which never seemed to be satisfied, was just the sailing. That’s all it was.
Laura didn’t let her mind go there. She couldn’t. Not yet.
She thought of this as she hung on to the bow of the boat. Her empty stomach rumbled. She’d just eaten a granola bar but couldn’t seem to stay full. She sat at the stern of the boat.
“You are really getting good at this,” Mark commented, bringing her to the present. She almost jumped.
“You think so?” she asked.
“I know so,” Garrett yelled from the bow.
Tim and Gretchen stayed silent, but she knew they also agreed. They’d been more than encouraging these last weeks.
Laura laughed. Maybe she could really help. Maybe they could win the race in four days.
Suddenly, she felt a surge of nausea that seemed to come out of nowhere. What the—She didn’t get seasick. But she was feeling a little woozy. The boat kicked up under a sudden wave.
“Whoa,” she said, feeling dizzy as she clung to the boat. Mark reached out and clutched her elbow.
“You okay?” Mark asked, concerned.
“I…I think so.” She smiled weakly, but she felt like hurling off the back of the boat. Just don’t throw up, she told herself. “I’m just feeling a little nauseous.”
“Seasickness?” he asked, looking sympathetic. “Happens to the best of us.”
“Uh…yeah.” Laura was beginning to think it wasn’t seasickness. All the clues added up. Could she be pregnant? God, she couldn’t be. Could she?
The thought sent another white-hot wave of nausea through her. Hold it together, she told herself. She glanced at the horizon and saw dark clouds headed their way. A storm?
“We’d better head in before that hits,” Mark said, and Garrett, Tim and Gretchen agreed. Laura glanced at the storm rolling in behind them as they turned the sailboat back to shore. The sun hung low in the horizon, so darkness would be coming soon as well.
“Is it a bad one?” Laura asked, feeling a little nervous as she remembered hurricane season approaching. The winds picked up, making it harder to hear. Her nausea retreated a little as adrenaline spiked.
“The radio says it could be,” Gretchen yelled over the gale.
In no time, the boat made it back to the marina.
“We might just have a shot at this thing,” Garrett said, sounding amazed as they pulled into their slot at the dock.
“You think so?” Laura asked, sweaty from her time in the sun and working the lines.
“You are a fast learner. We might do this. Really.” Garrett grinned and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Never saw a woman so determined to sail.”
“Well, I want Mark to win.” She glanced at Mark as he secured the boat to the dock.
“You care for him, don’t you?” Garrett asked suddenly. Laura stared at Mark, who was too far away to hear the conversation. She just nodded once. The nausea had gone almost as quickly as it had come. Maybe she’d imagined it.
“I thought so. I’ve got an eye for these things.” Garrett grabbed a line and hopped off to help secure the sailboat.
* * *
THAT EVENING, AFTER a quick dinner at the Rusted Anchor, Mark walked with Laura down Smuggler’s Cove, through a busy crowd of tourists. In fact, so many strangers crowded into the tiny port that there was barely room for cars to drive. The jewelry and souvenir shops were packed, and all the restaurants had long waits, even though the sky was crowded with angry storm clouds, ready to burst. The sun dipped below the horizon, not that anyone could tell with the darkening storm rolling in from the sea.
Mark glanced at the clouds and felt glad they’d turned in when they did. Being on the water with that kind of storm was never fun. A few light raindrops hit the sidewalk in front of them, leaving dark circles.
“Where did all these people come from?” Laura asked. “I didn’t think that many people lived on St. Anthony’s.”
“They don’t.” Mark felt a surge of annoyance as a man nudged his shoulder without looking up. “They’re on the cruise ships. The last one of the season.” The two tried to navigate through a packed crosswalk in the middle of town, even as the rain started to come a bit harder. Still a sprinkle, but held the promise of more to come.
“Why?”
Mark shrugged. “Hurricanes. The cruise ships will be headed up to Alaska or wherever it is they go. Not a good idea to have a big boat out in the sea when the storms hit.”
